


A Lonely Chord (Without A Song)

by santana-lopez (nightshifted)



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-21
Updated: 2011-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightshifted/pseuds/santana-lopez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana doesn't need anyone. Doesn't want to feel the pull of attraction. And yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lonely Chord (Without A Song)

Santana doesn't know why she feels so unsteady as she approaches Brittany, who is laughing and dancing with Mike and Tina on the dance floor. She walks past Carole and Burt, Finn and Rachel, Sam and Quinn, and she hates the feeling at the pit of her stomach, something like loneliness.

She doesn't need anyone. Doesn't want to feel the pull of attraction. And yet.

Santana's eyes stray to the girl with golden hair flowing over her shoulders, bright blue eyes that she remembers staring into as they lay together in bed, whispering about everything and nothing and each other. The memory is startlingly clear and achingly nostalgic.

Music flows to Santana's ears, and she feels the rhythm in her limbs as she steps toward the other three. Brittany is the first to pause her movements, her eyes rising to meet Santana's. Brittany smiles, and Santana feels the tug at the corners of her mouth.

"Hi," Brittany greets breathlessly.

Santana wrings her hands. "Hey." She turns to Mike and Tina. "Mind if I cut in?"

Mike shakes his head, and Tina smiles faintly at them before they both dance away.

Without warning, Brittany pulls Santana close, until they're pressed together, and her arms are around the back of Santana's neck like it's the most natural thing. Embarrassingly, Santana's pulse skyrockets, her breath hitching as Brittany's face comes inches from hers.

"Hi," Brittany says again, eyes bright.

"You look really pretty," Santana replies softly.

A warm smile spreads across Brittany's lips. "Thanks."

Santana's hands slide tentatively around Brittany's waist to rest at the small of her back. "Where's Artie?"

Brittany shrugs her shoulders, her hips starting to sway to the music. "He's not like you."

Santana follows Brittany's lead, her body instinctively moving against Brittany's as she settles into the beat. She doesn't know what Brittany means, and she can't find the voice to ask. Brittany is looking at her with a sad smile, and Santana fights the urge to kiss it away.

"He doesn't always care where I am," Brittany explains quietly. "You always used to."

Santana swallows hard. "You look really pretty," she says again, instead of everything else.

Brittany beams, a light flush coloring her cheeks. "You already said that."

Santana shrugs. "It's true."

"You look pretty too," Brittany whispers.

They're dancing now, really dancing, all rhythmic feet and sweeping hips, and Santana laughs, taking in the moment even though she knows it's temporary. She wonders when she'd grown afraid of taking whatever she wanted from Brittany.

"I miss your sweet lady kisses," Brittany continues, her breath hot and quick against Santana's cheeks.

Santana can't help it; she brushes her lips against Brittany's, just once, and lightly. "Sorry," she mumbles, and all she can think about is how much she wants to do it again.

Brittany's eyes are closed. "Why?"

Santana doesn't know what Brittany's referring to, but suddenly, the words are streaming out of her. "I don't want to be alone," she mutters, the last word so quiet it gets drowned out by the music.

Brittany keeps dancing, keeps leading Santana across the dance floor, even as Santana's feet begin to drag. Santana's head lowers, and she fights stubborn tears, but she stays in step, drawing warmth from Brittany's body as they move together. Silence stretches between them, and Santana's unsure whether Brittany's even heard her, but she can't find the voice to repeat it.

Brittany's hand ghosts around the perimeter of Santana's neck, until her palm is resting against Santana's cheek.

Santana swallows a gasp. "I don't want to be—"

"You're not," Brittany cuts in, her voice uncharacteristically shaky. "You're not alone, Santana. You have me."

"I _had_ you," Santana corrects morosely, almost angrily, "before I went and fucked it up."

Brittany is quiet for a moment, her dance steps slowing. "I didn't go anywhere."

"You're dating Artie," Santana counters, sounding more upset than she means to. "Or whatever the hell."

Brittany's shoulders rise and fall. "He just needs a friend."

Santana makes a face. "You fool around with him. I'd say that qualifies as more than just a friend."

"What about you and Puck?" Brittany asks quietly, the hand on Santana's cheek retreating to the back of her neck.

"That doesn't mean anything," Santana knee-jerks, then sighs. "Brittany, he's a good fuck. I bet Artie just lies there."

Brittany shrugs. "I like being on top."

Santana squeezes her eyes shut. "I remember."

Brittany's forehead presses against Santana's. "Artie doesn't always care where I am," she says, echoing her earlier statement. The words are punctuated like she's fumbling to make an important point.

Somewhere past the memory of Brittany straddling her hips, Santana knows that's supposed to mean, _He doesn't love me like you do_. Her heart aches, and words claw at the back of her throat. A moment passes, then two, and Brittany's hips are still swaying with the music, a slower ballad that would be romantic if Santana let it.

"I care where you are," she settles for saying. She presses a sloppy kiss to the corner of Brittany's mouth. "I always care where you are."

Brittany pulls Santana in until her head is resting on Brittany's shoulder. They dance the rest of the song in silence.

 

_fin_


End file.
